My phone rings again, bringing the same number that called me earlier across my stereo dashboard. “Hello?”
“She answered. She sounded upset…. Or something….” Lucas’s words are forced and rushed. “It sounded like she was crying and then the phone went dead. I’ve called her five times, and each time, it’s going directly to voicemail.”
I turn the opposite direction without bothering to signal which way I’m going. Thankfully, no one was going down the street. “I’m only a few blocks away. I’ll check on her and call you back.”
“Thank you. I know it’s probably nothing. She’s probably just going through post….” He trails off. Postpartum depression after giving up her child.
He doesn’t have to say it for me to know what’s worrying him. Now that she’s alone in the house, he’s worried she’ll hurt herself. It all makes sense. She’s struggling with her decision to give Grace up.
I swallow over the lump in my throat. Just do your job. It’s the right thing to do. If Mackenzie wants her baby back, that’s what’s right. You agreed to become a foster parent knowing that the goal is always reunification.
But that was before I met Grace. “I’ll call you soon.”
In less than a minute, I’m knocking on Mackenzie’s door with Grace’s baby carrier dangling from my arm. A dog barks and scrapes its paws against the front door of the neighbor’s house. That’s a big fucking dog. And the screen is torn to shreds. The booming barking continues as the door smacks repeatedly against the doorframe.
I knock again while shifting on my feet and keeping one eye on the neighbor’s door and one on Mackenzie’s scraped wooden door. Just open the door already. To the right, Laura’s house remains silent with no signs of life. She must be delivering her baked goods to the market.
Grace whimpers and kicks her feet against the blanket, causing the embroidered image of Mini Mouse to bounce. “Hush baby, we’ll be home soon.”
I rap my knuckles against the door again and listen for movement. Nothing. “Mackenzie, it’s Emily Grey, are you in there? Lucas was worried about you and wanted me to check on you.”
When no one answers, I walk to the edge of the porch nearest to Laura’s house. There’s no movement in the alleyway.Chad’s pickup is parked in the single open space that’s not littered with piles of storage items. In front of it is the old Cutlass. The worn boards pop under my feet as I stride to the other end of the rickety, paint worn porch. I’m surprised someone was able to get it out of police impound with Chad locked up.
The door swings open to Mackenzie’s white face peering around the door’s edge. Her eyes are smudged from crying with black streaks trailing down her cheeks. She looks like hell, and I’m going to make everything worse.
I cringe as I tip my chin toward the baby carrier. “I’m sorry that the baby is with me.”
“You need to go.” Her knuckles are as white as her face as her fingertips dig into the wood. The only way I’ll get in is if I dislodge her arm from its death grip as she blocks my ability to come inside.
“I need to know that you’re okay.”
I crane my neck around to look behind her. At least, she’s not bleeding anywhere. Or at least, anywhere that I can see. And there’s no sign of pinpoint pupils or any other side effects of drug usage.
There’s an overturned lamp on the end table, stuffing bursting from the seams of the green sofa, and the floor is covered in empty containers, paper, and clothes. I’ve seen homes inhabited by hoarders, but many times those are elderly individuals. Or drug houses. No wonder she didn’t want to raise Grace here.
“I’m worried about you.” I wedge my foot between the door and its frame as Grace whimpers again. I should’ve taken her to my mom’s house. I’m such an idiot.
“You. Need. To. Go.,” she says between clenched teeth. “I don’t want to see you.” The door smashes against my foot causing my eyes to tear as she continues to ignore Grace’s existence.
“It’ll only take a moment.”
“I’m fine. Tell Lucas to stop contacting me. I don’t want to hear from him.” Mackenzie’s eyes are laced with anger. “He needs to mind his own business.”
“What do we have here?” A deep voice comes from the other side of the door. “Is that Emily Grey? Jake’s sidepiece and the mongrel baby that she drags around?”
Mackenzie’s head is pulled backward as someone yanks on her hair, sending her careening to the floor. She screams as her knees hit the dingy brown carpet. What in the fuck? My heart races in my chest as I step back. The carrier hits my shin, sending a stabbing pain throughout my leg.
The door slings open, smacking into the inside wall.
It’s Chad. Everything spins as I try to make sense of what I’m seeing. Chad is in jail. He can’t be here. Yet, he’s here with his beady eyes raking over me.
“I told you to tell your old man to leave me alone. He didn’t.” He grips my free arm, yanking me off my feet, and dragging me into the house. “It looks like you were too dumb to pass on the message and too stupid to leave well enough alone.”
The door slams shut, rattling the windows of the old house as I gag over the mixture of his body odor and his whiskey laced breath. He grips my neck and slams the back of my head into the door. “Your ass is mine now. It’s time for fucking payback. Are you ready to play?”
My vision fades as black creeps around the walls of the room. I can’t breathe. I try to gasp for air, but nothing happens as he squeezes harder.
Jesus, I’m going to pass out. Grace. Fuck. Why didn’t I go to Mom’s house. My thighs shake as my knees buckle. Do something.
